Disclaimer - I'm not Tolkien, I don't own this, and no, for the last time, I am not an elf, and I am not a Legolas fan girl, thankyouverymuch. ;oD
A/N - Kudos to anyone that knows what Hall it is and whose voice she is hearing. Hint - No, it's not Ilúvatar. ;)
Also, please note that I am sorry that this is another short chapter - I have had Writer's Block from Angband, so getting anything posted is a miracle . . . -_-
She stood in front of the door to the library, where Elrond could be found most days, and sighed. This would be considerably more difficult than she had thought. For one thing, her language skills were less than perfect, and for another, she did not think that Elrond would really believe her even if she did manage to make her meaning clear.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door and walked inside.
Elrond was sitting at a small table consulting a book of lore. She walked towards him.
"Um . . . Elrond?" She squeaked, cursing at the fact that her voice rose at least an octave when she was nervous.
He looked up. "Yes, Anna?"
"I - I have something to tell you," she managed to say in broken Westron. "It's about - it's about Arda."
Speaking slowly, he asked her. "What is it you have to tell me, Anna?"
Without thinking, she burst out, "In my world, there are books about Arda - about the history of the elves and the War of the Ring, and the Fellowship and . . . stuff. They were written almost fifty years ago by a man named J.R.R. Tolkien, and they tell about what happened with the Jewels and the Ring."
Elrond gave her a puzzled look as she realized that she had just said everything in English.
She took a deep breath, and tried to calm down. Carefully, this time in Westron this time, she tried to explain about the books and Tolkien. "I know how the war ends - and what troubles will befall the Fellowship, but I do not think I am allowed to tell." She finished lamely, unsure if she had used the right words or not.
Elrond nodded. "That was a nice tale, Anna. Alas that it is not true, for how could a mortal from your world learn of Arda?"
Anna did not understand all of his words, only that he thought it was a made-up story. Gravely, she thanked Elrond for listening to her, and left the library, feeling that Elrond's not believing her was a portent, a warning, telling her not to inform the inhabitants of Middle Earth of their fates.
If only she had known that Elrond's disbelief was indeed a sign of what was to come - perhaps then she would have persisted in telling him.
Late that night, as she lay asleep, she had a dream. This in itself was not out of the ordinary. She often dreamt, long dreams that she could not remember entirely upon waking. It was what happened in the dream that made it odd.
She dreamed that she was walking down a long hall, looking for someone. People - elves - were sitting on benches lining the walls, apparently waiting for something to happen. Her dream self did not pay them any heed. Instead, she continued on her way, soon coming to a set of double doors, engraved with pictures and figures that she did not recognize. She considered them for a moment, then pushed them open, and stepped through, into the room beyond.
"Welcome, Anna," said a friendly voice. "How came you to my hall?"
"I - I don't really know, exactly. I - where am I, anyway?" She answered lamely.
"You are in my Hall."
"Yes, but I don't understand - where is your hall?" Asked Anna, frustrated.
"Here."
She sighed, and was about to speak again when the voice interrupted her. "Trouble yourself not with such mortal affairs. There is but one reason that I have called you here, and I will make it clear now. You are upsetting Arda."
"But - I haven't done anything!" Exclaimed Anna, bewildered.
"Yes, you have. By your very presence you have affected the events of the War of the Ring. Even as we speak, the Fellowship is being upset. Boromir has tried to take the Ring too early, and has been slain accordingly by the Orcs. Mithrandir has not fallen; has not become the White. Gollum has yet to find the Fellowship."
"No. It can't be true! Boromir cannot be dead - the Fellowship should not have, by any means, reached that point in the story," Anna calculated. "He would have to have fallen in Moria for this to be true!"
"But he did," said the voice calmly. "He was slain by an orc's arrow even as he tried to confront Frodo and take the Ring. Aragorn saw what happened, and tried to stop him, only to be wounded himself in the fight. The Halfling does not trust him now, as he believes that he tried to take the Ring. As soon as they reach Lorien, he will flee, accompanied by his servant Samwise, and his friends, Meriadoc and Peregrin."
"That can't happen! Pippin and Merry have important stuff to do later on - they have to tell the Ents of what is happening in Isengard; of what Saruman is up to!" She cried, feeling as though her arguments were futile.
"Do they? Has Saruman done wrong to any of them?"
"Yes - he tricked Ragadast the Brown, and he held Gandalf captive in Orthanc - besides, he's going to try and attack Rohan using his Orcs." A thought struck her suddenly. "If he has them - if he created them. Oh dear . . ."
The voice laughed softly, merrily. "If? Such a large word, if, not in letter but in meaning. Do not fear - Saruman has indeed created his Uruk-hai, and he will use them to kidnap the two halflings, and to attack the Rohirrim."
"I thought - you said - wait. You said that Merry and Pippin leave with Sam and Frodo. How can they be kidnapped if they're not in the right place at the right time?" She asked, confused.
"It is dangerous, wandering in the Wild," said the voice dreamily. "You may be caught unawares at any time."
"Oh. I understand." Anna said blandly.
"No, you do not. But it does not matter. Find your books in the woods, and perhaps then you will realize the truth."
It was then she realized who it was, and how she had been speaking English the entire time. She opened her mouth to reply, but did not get a chance, for it was in that moment she awoke, and knew what she had to do.
Find her copy of the trilogy, and read it again.
Reviewer Replies:
Wow! This is my most reviewed story on ff.net . . . which is a good thing, because it's my favorite story that I have posted. :oD Thank you, everyone!
yuhi - Thanks for your review . . . and not having pictured her is perfectly fine, as I have not as of yet. ;)
Huinesoron - Nasty foreign language teachers. Well . . . actually, all of mine have been nice. It was a substitute that made us speak only Spanish . . . so yeah. I'm guessing that it was a clever translation on Tolkien's part - that they don't actually rhyme in Westron, but he made them rhyme in English. Perhaps.
Ainu Laire - He did leave an awful lot of unsolved riddles and whatnot . . . perhaps his son will answer them? Hooray! You hit the nail on the head . . . she's around thirteen. She just had her birthday a few weeks before. :oD
AlmightyIshboo - Glad to know that they haven't gotten to you yet . . . also glad that you've found a hiding spot! Did I write soon enough for you?
Next chapter will be up . . . whenever. :o)
A/N - Kudos to anyone that knows what Hall it is and whose voice she is hearing. Hint - No, it's not Ilúvatar. ;)
Also, please note that I am sorry that this is another short chapter - I have had Writer's Block from Angband, so getting anything posted is a miracle . . . -_-
She stood in front of the door to the library, where Elrond could be found most days, and sighed. This would be considerably more difficult than she had thought. For one thing, her language skills were less than perfect, and for another, she did not think that Elrond would really believe her even if she did manage to make her meaning clear.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door and walked inside.
Elrond was sitting at a small table consulting a book of lore. She walked towards him.
"Um . . . Elrond?" She squeaked, cursing at the fact that her voice rose at least an octave when she was nervous.
He looked up. "Yes, Anna?"
"I - I have something to tell you," she managed to say in broken Westron. "It's about - it's about Arda."
Speaking slowly, he asked her. "What is it you have to tell me, Anna?"
Without thinking, she burst out, "In my world, there are books about Arda - about the history of the elves and the War of the Ring, and the Fellowship and . . . stuff. They were written almost fifty years ago by a man named J.R.R. Tolkien, and they tell about what happened with the Jewels and the Ring."
Elrond gave her a puzzled look as she realized that she had just said everything in English.
She took a deep breath, and tried to calm down. Carefully, this time in Westron this time, she tried to explain about the books and Tolkien. "I know how the war ends - and what troubles will befall the Fellowship, but I do not think I am allowed to tell." She finished lamely, unsure if she had used the right words or not.
Elrond nodded. "That was a nice tale, Anna. Alas that it is not true, for how could a mortal from your world learn of Arda?"
Anna did not understand all of his words, only that he thought it was a made-up story. Gravely, she thanked Elrond for listening to her, and left the library, feeling that Elrond's not believing her was a portent, a warning, telling her not to inform the inhabitants of Middle Earth of their fates.
If only she had known that Elrond's disbelief was indeed a sign of what was to come - perhaps then she would have persisted in telling him.
Late that night, as she lay asleep, she had a dream. This in itself was not out of the ordinary. She often dreamt, long dreams that she could not remember entirely upon waking. It was what happened in the dream that made it odd.
She dreamed that she was walking down a long hall, looking for someone. People - elves - were sitting on benches lining the walls, apparently waiting for something to happen. Her dream self did not pay them any heed. Instead, she continued on her way, soon coming to a set of double doors, engraved with pictures and figures that she did not recognize. She considered them for a moment, then pushed them open, and stepped through, into the room beyond.
"Welcome, Anna," said a friendly voice. "How came you to my hall?"
"I - I don't really know, exactly. I - where am I, anyway?" She answered lamely.
"You are in my Hall."
"Yes, but I don't understand - where is your hall?" Asked Anna, frustrated.
"Here."
She sighed, and was about to speak again when the voice interrupted her. "Trouble yourself not with such mortal affairs. There is but one reason that I have called you here, and I will make it clear now. You are upsetting Arda."
"But - I haven't done anything!" Exclaimed Anna, bewildered.
"Yes, you have. By your very presence you have affected the events of the War of the Ring. Even as we speak, the Fellowship is being upset. Boromir has tried to take the Ring too early, and has been slain accordingly by the Orcs. Mithrandir has not fallen; has not become the White. Gollum has yet to find the Fellowship."
"No. It can't be true! Boromir cannot be dead - the Fellowship should not have, by any means, reached that point in the story," Anna calculated. "He would have to have fallen in Moria for this to be true!"
"But he did," said the voice calmly. "He was slain by an orc's arrow even as he tried to confront Frodo and take the Ring. Aragorn saw what happened, and tried to stop him, only to be wounded himself in the fight. The Halfling does not trust him now, as he believes that he tried to take the Ring. As soon as they reach Lorien, he will flee, accompanied by his servant Samwise, and his friends, Meriadoc and Peregrin."
"That can't happen! Pippin and Merry have important stuff to do later on - they have to tell the Ents of what is happening in Isengard; of what Saruman is up to!" She cried, feeling as though her arguments were futile.
"Do they? Has Saruman done wrong to any of them?"
"Yes - he tricked Ragadast the Brown, and he held Gandalf captive in Orthanc - besides, he's going to try and attack Rohan using his Orcs." A thought struck her suddenly. "If he has them - if he created them. Oh dear . . ."
The voice laughed softly, merrily. "If? Such a large word, if, not in letter but in meaning. Do not fear - Saruman has indeed created his Uruk-hai, and he will use them to kidnap the two halflings, and to attack the Rohirrim."
"I thought - you said - wait. You said that Merry and Pippin leave with Sam and Frodo. How can they be kidnapped if they're not in the right place at the right time?" She asked, confused.
"It is dangerous, wandering in the Wild," said the voice dreamily. "You may be caught unawares at any time."
"Oh. I understand." Anna said blandly.
"No, you do not. But it does not matter. Find your books in the woods, and perhaps then you will realize the truth."
It was then she realized who it was, and how she had been speaking English the entire time. She opened her mouth to reply, but did not get a chance, for it was in that moment she awoke, and knew what she had to do.
Find her copy of the trilogy, and read it again.
Reviewer Replies:
Wow! This is my most reviewed story on ff.net . . . which is a good thing, because it's my favorite story that I have posted. :oD Thank you, everyone!
yuhi - Thanks for your review . . . and not having pictured her is perfectly fine, as I have not as of yet. ;)
Huinesoron - Nasty foreign language teachers. Well . . . actually, all of mine have been nice. It was a substitute that made us speak only Spanish . . . so yeah. I'm guessing that it was a clever translation on Tolkien's part - that they don't actually rhyme in Westron, but he made them rhyme in English. Perhaps.
Ainu Laire - He did leave an awful lot of unsolved riddles and whatnot . . . perhaps his son will answer them? Hooray! You hit the nail on the head . . . she's around thirteen. She just had her birthday a few weeks before. :oD
AlmightyIshboo - Glad to know that they haven't gotten to you yet . . . also glad that you've found a hiding spot! Did I write soon enough for you?
Next chapter will be up . . . whenever. :o)